


Sweetling

by LadyIsabella



Series: Players And Pieces [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Breastfeeding, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Impregation (mentioned), Older Man/Younger Woman, Older Woman/Younger Man, Parent/Child Incest, Seduction, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-01-03 04:31:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIsabella/pseuds/LadyIsabella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Petyr seduces Sansa...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lay Back Sweetling

Sansa sighed and looked at the Lord of the Eyrie; Robert was sitting up in bed, his arms crossed on his skinny chest. He glared at the Maester and pointed at the door, “Go away! Don’t want you! I want Alayne!”

“But Lord Robert, the Lord Protector expects you at dinner-“

“I’m not going. I’m going to stay abed and Alayne can tell me stories,” the little boy pouted and dived under the mass of blankets that covered the large bed. 

The Maester shook his head and wrung his hands together. “My Lady, I shall go and inform the Lord Protector...Try and keep him calm.”

“No, I shall have Lord Robert washed and dressed and at dinner. Please tell my father that we will be there in half an hour,” Sansa smiled kindly and shooed the Maester, the maids and Lord Robert’s squire from the room. She approached the bed carefully and gently sat down before placing her hand on the lump that was the Lord of the Eyre. “Sweet Robin? Please let me see your face, sweet Robin. You know how I love to see your strong and handsome face.” Sansa watched and prayed that Robert would get up. Petyr had little patience for his weak stepson and had, on two occasions, made the Maester give him Sweetsleep…Once more and Lord Robert would get his wish of staying abed. 

After nearly a full minute, Robert threw back the covers and looked at Sansa, a grin plastered across his usually sullen face. “Do I really look strong and handsome?” 

“Of course you do. You are my brave Sweet Robin and one day we will be married in the Sept and the entire Eyrie will come and see.” Sansa was well aware that the chances of Robert Arryn surviving to an age when he would marry was very unlikely and the chances of him being able to consummate the marriage was even less likely. But it was a kind lie to tell the sickly boy. 

The six year old smiled, “Will there be lemon cakes? And sweets? And honeycombs? Can I have wine? Can I?” He scrambled out of the covers properly and stood beside Sansa, his hands on his hips. “I want 100 lemon cakes at the wedding! You can have some too…but no one else.” 

Sansa smiled warmly; at least he was up and appeared calm enough for her to ‘suggest’ a bath. “Of course, I’ll make sure you have at least 200 lemon cakes and lots of wine.” She reached out and took his hand, “Now…Would you like a bath now? It will make you look ever so handsome, my Lord.” 

Lord Robert considered for a moment then nodded, “Okay…but I want 4 eggs for dinner and lemon cakes!” 

~

While Robert was being washed and dressed, Sansa went to her room to change for breakfast. She pulled open the wardrobe and gazed at the collection of velvet, silk and damask gowns. They were all Lady Lysa; some of course did not fit Sana’s slender frame but many of the dresses had been made for Lysa Tully when she was newly married and these fitted well enough. 

Today Sansa decided on a beautiful gown of deep green silk, slashed with cream velvet and embroidered with fireflies across the bodice. She examined herself in the mirror and smiled; it suited her and combined with her chestnut locks made her blue eyes shine. Sansa stroked her soft hair and sighed, she missed her auburn colouring but it was necessary; should Queen Cersei realise she was here…she would be killed. The young woman gazed at her reflection sadly then looked through Lady Lysa’s jewels; most, like the gowns, were far too grand and Sansa never felt right wearing them. However, she found a simple silver chain with a small butterfly pendant; it was nice and went with her chosen dress. 

Sansa glanced out of the window and sighed, “Lord Robert should be dressed now.” She hurried back to his room and found the Lord of the Eyrie dressed and speaking pleasantly enough to Maddy. “Please let this last,” she prayed silently. Robert was dressed in a light blue and cream doublet, cream breeches and soft blue boots. Sansa smiled and knelt down in front of him, “You look very handsome, my Lord, it just needs one last thing to finish it off.” She held out her hand to Maddy who placed a white enamel pin of a falcon in her hand. The pin was exquisitely painted and had two tiny pearls for the falcon’s eyes. Sansa gently pinned it to Robert’s doublet and smiled. “Perfect. Now, shall we go to dinner?” 

Robert seemed to consider the question for a moment before he nodded in agreement. “I can still have eggs can’t I? I was good? And lemon cakes?”

“Of course, I’ll make sure you have as many as you like,” Sansa took his hand and they left the bedroom; she prayed he would behave at dinner. The little Lord did cooperate and walked calmly and quietly to the hall, he did not demand anything and chatted about eggs. 

They reached the hall and Sansa smiled when Petyr Baelish rose from the table and walked over. “Alayne, my dear daughter, you look beautiful today. That gown makes your eyes glow.” Petyr looked down at Lord Robert and forced a smile; it was well known between Alayne and her ‘father’ that he had little love for the sickly boy. He put up with Robert because he was the key to the Eyrie and because both Petyr and the Maester did not expect the child to survive to adulthood. 

“Alayne says I can have 100 eggs! She promised!” Robert demanded and pulled his hand from Sansa’s to cross his arms across his skinny chest. “She did!”

Petyr looked down at his stepson and raised an eyebrow, “Did she now?” He glanced at Sansa then back at Lord Robert. “You can have two eggs and some bread and honey. That’s enough for you, you will only be sick. Now go and sit down, I need to talk to Alayne.” 

Robert glared at Petyr and went to throw himself on the floor but Sansa quickly grabbed his hand and knelt down in front of him. “Sweet Robin, please don’t be angry. If you sit down and eat your honey…You can come to my room tonight and I’ll tell you…three stories; how about that?”

“Five!” The child demanded and looked into Alayne’s bright blue eyes. No matter what he was offered, Robert always wanted more!

“Okay, five.” Sansa smiled and hugged him before she rose gracefully to her feet and pushed Robert gently in the direction of the table. The boy wandered off towards it without any more fuss. 

“Alayne, come with me, I need to talk to you about something important,” Petyr strode passed her and walked from the hall, never once doubting that she would follow him. He crossed the corridor and opened a pale blue door that led into an Anteroom which was bare but for a carved table covered with a white cloth. He turned and lent against the table, waiting for Sansa. 

She finally appeared and paused in the doorway; Sansa looked confused but she slowly closed the door after entering the small room. “Petyr…what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Please, Alayne, call me father,” Petyr smirked and beckoned her over. “I have a gift for you.” 

Sansa walked over and stood beside the table, her eyes downcast. She was always shy around him…she didn’t know what he wanted from her. “A gift, father?” 

“Yes, a very expensive gift. But it is a necessary precaution.” He reached into his pocket and drew out a small package, wrapped in pale green silk. Petyr held it out to her and smiled. He watched as Sansa took the package and held it, her face shy and confused. “Open it.” 

She swallowed and slowly unwrapped the package. Sansa looked up, her eyes questioning when she revealed the collection of herbs in a cotton wrap. “Herbs?”

Petyr came over and stroked her cheek, “Yes. Herbs; they will prevent pregnancy, my sweetling.” 

“But…but Father I have no need of moon tea. I’m…I’m still a maid,” Sansa blushed and looked down at her hands. 

“I should hope so, sweetling. This is not moon tea; it’s a herb from Myr that works in the same way. However…you may have need of it sooner than you think.” Petyr’s hand stroked across her chest lightly and he smiled. “Sweetling, you know what goes on between a man and a woman…do you not?”

“I…Yes, my mother has told me…some things,” Sansa looked up at Petyr and knew her face must be red as her hair had once been. “But I’ve never done anything, father,” she quickly answered. 

Petyr laughed softly and continued to stroke the soft skin of her chest, “Really? Most young maids have explored their own bodies. Have you never touched yourself…here?” His hand moved down over her bodice and within a heartbeat he pressed it between her legs; the only barrier between his hand and her sex was her gown and silken smallclothes. 

Sansa blushed; she had touched herself, many times in fact. Once in Winterfell she had raised her skirts and allowed Robb to look between her legs, under the Heart-tree. He had stroked her thighs and asked if he could touch her and she had let him…His fingers had felt so good against her…inside her. After that she had begun to touch herself at night in her room. “Yes, father…I…I have touched myself.” She swallowed and blushed shyly.

“Has anyone else every touched you?” He rubbed his hand hard against her gown. 

“Only…only Robb, father.” 

“Robb…You allowed your elder brother to touch your most sacred place?” Petyr did not sound annoyed; he sounded interested, perhaps even amused. “I am shocked, sweetling!”

Sansa smiled shyly, “I felt it was my duty…to allow him to see…” 

“Yes. You did the right thing…Now, would you allow your father the same gift?”

“I…” The young woman nodded slowly. “If you wish it father.” 

Petyr placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned in to whisper, “I do. Very much so. Sit on the table, sweetling.” He released her and stepped back, to watch as Sansa swallowed and walked to the table. She lifted herself up gracefully and sat down. “Now, move back a little…Good girl…Raise your gown to your hips. Yes, like that…” Petyr felt his cock harden as he gazed at the scene before him; Sansa Stark sitting on the table, her gown raised to her hips so reveal her long, elegant legs. Her silken small clothes hid her sex from his eyes but the effect was the same on him. 

Sansa blushed and lent back slight, supporting herself on her arms. “Should…should I remove my smallclothes, father?”

“No…I will remove them,” Petyr stepped forward and gently untied the delicate bows either side of her slender hips. His hand was cool as he slid the cloth away from her body. He paused and gazed down at her uncovered sex. It was beautiful, covered with a light dusting of flame red curls. “You are beautiful, Sansa. In more ways than one…Open your legs for me…Wider…That’s a good girl.” His breathing increased as he gazed at the beautiful young woman. An idea occurred to him and he laughed softly. 

Sansa sat up slightly and blushed, “What is it?” 

Petyr placed his hand on her inner thigh and smiled, “Nothing my dear…nothing at all. I just had an idea.” 

“An idea?” 

“Yes, I wonder if you would show me how you pleasure yourself?” 

The girl blushed and looked at him, her eyes wide and glinting with innocence. “I…I don’t know if I should, father.” 

“Sansa, sweetling, you are a maid of four and ten. Surely you can do this little thing for your beloved father?” Petyr stroked her thigh softly; he knew he had her…She would do as he asked. 

“Y-yes, father,” she moved slightly so she could reach her sex with ease. Sansa blinked when Petyr stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest with a smirk. She swallowed and allowed her fingers to flow down to her secret place; aware all the time that her ‘father’ was watching; his eyes fixed on the soft red hair between her creamy thighs. Sansa’s fingers slowly spread her lips apart and rubbed her sensitive pearl; she moaned softly and closed her eyes as pleasure tingled in her nipples. 

Petyr felt his cock stiffen even more in his breeches. He watched as Sansa stroked herself; the image of her on the table with her legs spread…It was nearly too much for him. He wanted to bury himself in her virgin cunny and fuck her like a rabid animal…but he couldn’t…not yet. “Sansa…can you put a finger inside yourself?”

“I-inside?” The teenager blushed but adjusted herself so she could insert her middle finger into her, by now, dripping hole. 

“That’s it. Such a good girl for your father,” Petyr strolled over and slowly unlaced Sansa’s bodice; her small, creamy breasts were bared to his lustful eyes. His fingers danced lightly over one of her shell pink nipples and he was pleased to see that it hardened at his touch; he could make a whore of Sansa Stark yet. “Now go back to rubbing your clit, sweetling. I want you nice and wet for me.” 

The girl stopped and looked at him, shock written on her face. “But…but you can’t…you know, inside me.” 

“Did I say stop, Sansa? Rub your clit.” Petyr’s fingers tightened briefly over her nipple. “No, I will not take your maidenhead tonight, never fear, sweetling. I want you wet so my own fingers can enter you easily. There are things a father must teach his daughter…so she knows what to expect on her wedding night. I need to know that everything is as it should be.” He released her nipple and smiled kindly when she went back to pleasuring herself. 

Sansa swallowed but rubbed her clit as she had been told to; she did not want to displease Petyr…She had seen him strip a maid and spank her with his belt once when the maid had annoyed him. The young woman rubbed her clit and bit her lip as the pleasure began to build and build…Just as she was about to be overcome by her orgasm, Petyr pinched her nipple hard and watched as the teenager moaned loudly in pleasure and writhed on the table.

Once she had calmed down slightly, Petyr strode to the end of the table and stood between the girl’s legs. He stroked her thighs softly and whispered, “Sansa, I want you to relax…I’m going to put two fingers inside your beautiful cunny and check you will be able to take your husband’s cock.” He ran his fingers through her curls and smiled, “You are very wet…that is good. Lay back, sweetling.” 

The young girl blushed and lay back on the table as Petyr gently parted her pussy lips before he stroked his fingers over her clit. She closed her eyes as she felt him slowly ease two fingers inside her tight passage; the feeling was incredible…He eased them forward until they reached her barrier. Sansa tensed and opened her eyes…she wondered if Petyr would just break her with his fingers…

He stopped and smiled, “Do not worry, sweetling. I will not break you. Just relax and focus on my fingers.” He moved them back and forth, his thumb played over her clit. Petyr bent his head and captured her clit between his lips, he suckled on her…enjoying the soft moans and gasps emitting from the girl lying on the table. 

“Alayne?!” A shrill voice broke through the quiet room as Lord Robert wandered down the corridor. 

Sansa sat up and quickly laced up her gown while Lord Baelish stepped backwards and wiped his lips delicately on his sleeve. 

“That was very enjoyable, my Lady. I would return to Lord Robert…We shall do this again.” 

The young girl blushed and nodded shyly, “Yes, father.”


	2. Now Sweetling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Petyr decides to change his plans...

“Now sweetling, have you been making tea with the herbs I gave you?” Petyr’s fingers rubbed over her clit as she sat on his lap, her gown pulled around her hips; his other arm was locked around her shoulders, ensuring that Sansa Stark didn’t move as her ‘Father’ explored her young and pliant body. She had been summoned to his room every night for near a week; each time he played with and explored her body…sometimes he unlaced her corset and tweaked her nipples until they hardened beautifully, or else he had her stand in the middle of the room, raise her skirts to her hips and allow him to touch her through her small clothes. This was the first time he had touched her fully since that first time…

Sansa gasped and felt her legs turn to jelly as Petyr’s finger circled her clit with soft yet strong fingers; his fingers were nothing like Robb’s calloused ones…it felt different…neither better nor worse just different. She blushed shyly and nodded, “Yes, Father. Every day for the last week…Is that enough?”

Petyr grinned against her chestnut coloured hair, he breathed in the scent of lavender oil that clung to her skin; Sansa had always preferred other more floral scents but Lady Lysa had left nothing but Lavender oils. It reminded Petyr of Cersei and that made him smirk. He was distracted from Sansa’s soft moans by thoughts of the Queen; he knew she would beggar the realm and destroy herself soon enough but there was the children to consider…Cersei’s bastards by Jaime would be a nuisance; Tommen would no doubt be killed soon enough, he was a sweet boy but he was in the way of those who wanted that ugly iron throne, the girl, Myrcella was in Dorne, not safe but safer than she would be in the Capital…The Dornish could keep her; when the truth was revealed fully, Petyr doubted that the Prince of Dorne would want his Grandson married to the product of Lannister incest…Now, the product of _Targaryen_ incest, well that was different.

“Ah…” Sansa gasped and came, her thighs soaking at once.

Lord Baelish looked down, brought of his scheming’s’ by her moans. He grinned, “You must forgive me, sweetling. I was far away…Oh dear; you’ve made your beautiful gown all wet.” He stood up, his arm around Sana and pushed her off his lap. He realised her and grinned again then turned her around to face him. Petyr leaned in and whispered, “Take off your dress…”

The Stark girl swallowed then nodded. She unlaced her bodice with clumsy fingers; the gown hung loosely for a moment before Sansa pushed it off her shoulders to fall it a pile of softly coloured fabric around her feet. Under the confection of damask and myrish lace –the gown was one of Lady Lysa’s when she was a young woman- she wore silken smallclothes and knee length cotton stockings, tied with a blue ribbons. Sansa blushed and stood gazing at her feet; she allowed Petyr to stare at her body without objecting…He had saved her from humiliation and pain…He’d saved her from Joffery as well so she felt it was only right that he be allowed to seek comfort in her body.

Petyr ran his fingers over his lips and smiled. “You are flowering into a very beautiful young woman, sweet one. Remove your smallclothes.” He sat back down and rested his hands on the armrests of the chair; he oozed dignity and arrogance.

“Father…are we going to…” She trailed off and blushed.

“Perhaps. Remove your smallclothes,” he commanded again.

Sansa realised that he was never going to reveal his plans so she should just obey and let him do as he pleased; at least with the herbs it was unlikely she could conceive a child. She nodded and untied the small bows both side of her hips and let her smallclothes fall to the floor.

Petyr grinned, his eyes swept up and down her body before settling on the red curls between her legs. “You are beautiful, sweet one.” He beckoned her over and watched with delight as the slender young woman walked closer then stopped in front of him. Lord Baelish reached out and stroked her hip before allowing his hand to slide over her firm yet soft skin until he reached her small, delicate breasts. Petyr cupped them gently and rubbed her nipples with his thumbs, only slightly roughened by years of ‘counting coppers’ as Master of Coin in Kingslanding. “Your body has changed greatly since your flowering…You resemble your mother, in many ways.”

Sansa froze and looked at him, her eyes wide. “Father…”

He ignored her, if he sensed her slight revulsion at being compared to her mother in this situation he didn’t show it. Petyr stroked his fingers down the side of her breast then lent forward and nosed the soft skin; the scent of her made him harden against his breeches. “Now sweetling…” His lips sealed around a nipple briefly and suckled her softly before he pulled back and asked, “Does Lord Robin ever see your breasts?”

The girl blushed and nodded slowly, “Yes, father…I…He…He likes to…” She bit her lip and gestured to her hard nipples. “He likes me, when he comes to my bed, to unlace my nightgown and let him nuzzle at my breasts. Sometimes he takes the tips into his mouth and sucks, father.”

“Ah yes,” Petyr nodded and stroked his fingers down her flat stomach until they came to rest on her belly. “He wishes to suckle you, to take your milk…but of course, you have none yet. One day when your belly swells with child, you shall be able to satisfy your little husband fully. Until then I see nothing wrong with comforting him…”

Sansa blushed and nodded. “Yes father. Should I allow him to see everything else?”

“No, the little lord is too young to see such things. For now, allow him to suckle you and take comfort in your beautiful breasts. In the meantime, I shall give you the pleasure he cannot,” the Lord Protector smirked to himself and swept Sansa up into his arms, delighting in her gasp of shock. He strode to the bed and dropped the young woman onto the bed, she laughed softly as she bounced on the soft fabric.

He stood beside the bed and stared down at her then smiled and reached out to stroke her hair, “My dear daughter…you are so beautiful. I do not deserve you but I shall keep you anyway.” Petyr grinned and slowly unbuttoned his doublet.

“Father are…are you going to…”

“Hush sweetling,” he shrugged off his doublet and got onto the bed then lay down beside her. “I have no plans to take your maiden head tonight…but I want you to experience other things.”

“Other things- what else is there to experience?” Sansa blushed and looked away from Petyr’s naked chest.

Petyr grinned and brushed a kiss to her shoulder, “So much, sweetling…so much…Now, I want you to relax and open your legs nice and wide for me, can you do that?”

Sansa nodded slowly and blushed. She brought her knees up and spreads her legs, displaying herself for Petyr. “Are you going to touch me again?”

“Oh yes, and more,” he shifted so he was lying between her legs, his face inches from her sex. His fingers drift slowly over her before he gently eases two fingers inside her. “Mmm, sweetling you are so tight. It seems such a waste to make you wait for your dear sweet Robin to be of age to lie with you. But we must have an Heir to the Eyrie…”

“But Robert is very weak, father. He…the maids whisper that he will be unable to consummate the marriage,” Sansa blushed and moaned softly as his fingers stroke her inside.

Petyr laughed gently, “We shall see, my sweet, we shall see. Perhaps I can help you and Lord Robert conceive a child. Or…”

“Or?” The girl sat up slightly and looked at Petyr.

“I could give you a child and we could convince little Robert that it is _his_ baby,” he moved forward and circled her clit with his tongue, sending jolts of pleasure into her. “He is young; he will not know the difference.”

Sansa swallowed. She wasn’t sure. “I…Father, it will not work. Everyone else will know that is he not capable of such…”

“Let me worry about that, my sweet. Now, I am going to put another finger inside you…I want you to lie back and relax.” He waited until Sansa lay back onto the bed then checked that she was wet enough before slowly and gently eased another finger into her tight body. “Mmm, by the Gods Sansa, you are so beautiful,” he presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh. His lips brushed over her mound, his tongue teased her clit gently. “Would you like me to take your maiden head, sweetling?”

“I…Yes, father. I would.”

“Good…we shall do that then…”

“When?” Sansa’s voice was soft and shy sounding.

“Well we shall have to have you and little Robert married before I do so…I shall have it arranged. Just do as you always do and do not show any knowledge.”

“Yes father…Mmm…” She gasped and arched her back as Petyr took her clit into his mouth and traced his teeth over the sensitive little nub.


	3. A Sweet Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Lord Robert comes to Sansa/Alayne's room looking for comfort...And he finds it. In the shape of her breasts...

A Sweet Comfort

Sansa’s fingers moved slowly between her thighs. They circled her clit as she bit back her soft moans. She couldn’t help it…Before all this with Petyr; she had only rarely touched herself, only when the need was so bad she _had_ to! Now it seemed every night, every night he didn’t send for her, she was pleasuring herself in the dark of her room…Imaging him on top of her, his fingers inside her…His lips at her neck or else lapping at her small, delicate breasts.

When Petyr sucked or licked at her breasts, it felt different than when little Robert did it. He was a child looking for comfort…Petyr was a man and Sansa, even with her limited experience, knew that he was looking for something a lot different then comfort.

She blushed softly at the thought of soft lips around her nipples; it didn’t matter whose lips they were…the effect was the same. The feeling went straight down between her legs and made her all hot.

“Mmm,” Sansa moaned then tried to swallow the moan back quickly.

“Alayne?”

A soft voice whispered softly from the door across the dark room. It swung open slowly to reveal little Lord Robert, dressed in his sleeping robe, his fluffy hair sticking up in all directions. “Alayne, I can’t sleep…” He shuffled forward and closed the door with a soft click.

 _“Thank heavens for a dark room,”_ Sansa thought and quickly pulled her hand from between her legs and sat up. “Oh, my poor sweet Robin. Come on then,” she reached over to the small table by her bed and lit the candle; Robert hated the dark.

Soft, warm light filled the room and revealed the small boy…He was 10, nearly 11 years old, the same age as her brother Bran and yet he could have been much younger. He was sickly and small, prone to complain and to fits of shaking…

 _“I shouldn’t stop him from seeking comfort. His mother is dead; he needs and deserves it,”_ Sansa thought kindly and slipped from her warm bed to go him. She shivered in her thin night gown and quickly wrapped her arms around the small boy and kissed his forehead. “Come, you can sleep in my bed and get warm. We cannot have the Lord of the Eyrie catching a chill! Especially not now he is looking so strong.”

Robert looked immensely pleased and grinned up at her. “Do I? Truly?”

“Yes. You do! Truly. One day you shall be as a big as your father. And just as strong,” she smiled and took his hand then led him back to her bed. As she got in one side, Robert scrambled up the other and sat smiling, his hair sticking up in all directions like a baby rabbit. Sansa lay down on the soft bed and smiled softly. She made room beside her and lifted the covers. “Hurry, sweet Robin. It’s cold and I need you to cuddle me and keep me warm.”

Robert loved to hear how she needed him. It made him feel useful and strong.

“Okay,” he cuddled into her and smiled sleepily.

“Perhaps he will just sleep tonight…” Sansa wasn’t sure how she felt about that prospect. Yes, before she had preferred he just sleep. It was annoying to have him pawing at her breasts and trying to nurse…Now she…the feeling of him suckling sent pleasure between her legs. Oh. How confusing this all was!

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Mmm…”

Sansa awoke slowly and blushed as she became aware of movement around her. Something…No, someone was trying to unlace her nightgown and would brush her brush her breasts every now and again which sent little sparks of pleasure between her legs.

“Robin?” She asked sleepily and opened her eyes fully to see the little boy struggling with the laces of the nightgown.

“Alayne…I can’t open it. Please can you? I swear I’ll be good,” he tried again then failed with a sigh.

Finally Sansa nodded, “Okay. Move over a little so I can do it.” She sat up and watched as Robin shifted to the side to watch, his eyes wide as she slowly unlaced her nightgown, revealing her soft, creamy skin and delicate breasts to his slightly hungry looking gaze. She pushed the fabric off her shoulders then lay back down, her eyes watching little Robin’s face.

He stared at her then smiled shyly and reached out with a single finger to stroke over the underside of her breast. “They are smaller than Mothers…”

Sansa smiled gently and touched his hand. “I am yet young, Sweet Robin. They will get bigger.”

“Will they?” He lay down beside her and nuzzled his nose against her soft breast. His head rested on her arm.

“Yes, I hope so. I would like them to…So I can please my husband when the time comes.”

Robin giggled and stroked a finger over the skin again. “Me?”

“Of course you, my sweet one; I would marry no one else!” Sansa found that lying to little Robert became easier every day. He seemed to believe anything she said and was happy as long as she was there…Even more so if she bared her breasts for him to suckle at.

_“If we do every marry, though Petyr says it will never happen, I wonder if Lord Robert would have me nurse him as his mother did…in public and on display. Would he demand I unlace my gown at dinner in front of his guests and give him comfort?”_

She blushed slightly as Robin’s lips moved slowly over her skin, licking and sucking softly before he found one delicate pink nipple. The boy drew it into his warm mouth and sucked slowly, his tongue circling it to make it peak and give milk. Of course, Robin knew that he would get none from Alayne but he still tried.

Sansa stroked his hair as he suckled and tried to hold back her soft moans as memories of Petyr doing a similar thing floated into her mind. _“He didn’t just suckle me…His fingers…Oh,”_ she gasped and blushed.

Robin didn’t seem to notice and kept sucking, his eyes closed, his left hand stroked her other breast as he used to do to Lady Lysa, to encourage that breast to produce milk so he could move over and take his fill too.

After a few moments of silent nursing, all the while Sansa just stroked his hair and murmured soft words to him, Robin pulled back and asked shyly, “Alayne…when will you have milk for me?”

She had explained this to him. On several occasions. But the boy seemed to think it was like a gift; if he asked her enough she would give it to him. “Oh, sweet Robin, you know that I will not have milk for my dear one until I am with child.”

He seemed to consider this for a moment, his fingers played with her nipples as he stared down at them. “So if you have a baby in here,” his hand ran down to her fabric covered belly and pressed lightly, “then you’ll have milk for me here?” His small hand circled her left breast, with its now slightly red and glistening nipple.

“Yes. Once my strong, brave husband has put a child inside me…then I shall have milk for him to drink,” Sansa sighed inwardly. The chances of Robin ever being able to do that were slim to none. Still, if they married when he was a little older, she was sure he would try his best! Men, no matter what their age seemed to know exactly what to do!

Robin frowned then asked innocently, “Can I put a baby in you Alayne?”

Sansa gasped in surprise and stared at him. “Sweet Robin…you are not old enough yet. One day, soon, you and I shall be married and then you may give me all the babies you like; we can have dozens. But for now…we must wait.”

The boy sighed then lay back down and took her nipple back into his mouth and suckled again. For a few moments he was silent then he added, “Could someone else put a baby in your belly?”

“Someone else?” Sansa asked gently. Oh yes! But…did he know what he was talking about? “Are you sure you would want that, my sweet one? Someone else would have to see me, as you do, and be with me? They would have to take me as a husband takes a wife…I am to be yours. Do you really want to have someone else’s baby in my belly?”

Robin nodded. “I want you to have milk for me! Like Mother. It would be okay if you promised you didn’t love them! Only me. You are mine…aren’t you?”

“Of course I am! Always. Perhaps we could ask Lord Petyr if he can help; he could find someone suitable to give us a baby.”

“Yes, alright,” the boy returned to her breasts, satisfied and calm.

Sansa lay silently as he suckled and smiled to herself before drifting off into a peaceful sleep...


	4. Sweet Lady Luck Is With Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Petyr teases Sansa and makes plans...It seems luck is on his side.

“Tell me again, Sansa…” Petyr sat by the fire, a glass of Dornish red in his hand and a smirk on his lips. He had already had the girl tell him what had happened; twice, in fact. “This time, remove your dress and smallclothes.”

The girl in front of him, framed by the amber glow of the fire, looked even more beautiful than he thought possible; her eyes shone with a curious mix of innocence and desire…And by the Gods when she removed her dress and let her smallclothes fall to the stone floor…

Her pale, soft skin…slender hips that were slowly becoming womanly, her small breasts that were poised to bloom. She was magnificence.

_“And all mine,”_ thought Petyr. _“Little Lord Robert will die soon enough and I shall step in to care for his poor, abandoned young widow who carries the heir to the Eyrie. It is too perfect! No one will question her. She is nothing but an innocent and will sing of Robert’s virility in the bedchamber and swear to the Gods she allowed no other between her sweet legs. Once the babe is born, I shall have both her and the Eyrie.”_

“Again, Lord Baelish?”

Petyr was dragged from his thoughts by the naked Sansa’s voice. He looked her up and down, his eyes paused on the soft, downy red hair between her creamy thighs before he nodded. “Yes, again. I wish to hear what happened when Sweet Robin came to your bedchamber. In fact,” he set the wine glass down on the table by the fire and patted his lap, “sit here and tell me. I would not want you to catch cold…”

For a brief moment, it looked like she would refuse him. But then it past and Sansa gracefully moved and sat down gently on his lap. He slowly stroked the tips of his fingers up her side, caressing her blooming body as if she was a Goddess in need of worship. “So…tell me. Did he do this?”

His fingers swept down over collar bone and captured one of her perfect pink nipples. Petyr smirked against her hair and watched the fire rather than her as he rolled her nipple back and forth, feeling it harden and elongate under his skilful ministrations.

Sansa gasped and closed her eyes as pleasure shot through her. “N-no, Petyr…”

“Call me Father.”

“No, f-father, he, ah, he didn’t,” she swallowed and shifted on his lap as she tried to ease the slow build of heat and pleasure between her legs.

Petyr smirked to himself and kissed the back of her neck before he whispered, “So…what did he do?”

The girl in his lap gasped softly as his fingers continued to tease her nipples. She managed to gain her voice and whispered, “He came to my bed while I was-ah-“ she stopped when she felt Petyr’s fingers move further south until one gently teased the outer lips of her cunny.

“You were what, sweetling?”

“I was-mmm…pleasuring myself, father,” Sansa blushed redder than the Dornish wine and closed her eyes, as if that would save her when Petyr’s fingers began to circle her clit in order to bring forth more soft moans from the young woman.

Lord Baelish smirked against the soft skin of her shoulder. “Oh really? I am shocked Alayne! You did not come to me…”

Sansa, if possible, became redder and opened her eyes to stare at the fire, anything but focus on…oh…Petyr’s middle finger slid inside her slowly and gently, probing, searching, finding. She gasped in pleasure and leant back against him. “He…he was in need of comfort. He suckled my breasts then…then he asked-“ She cut off and moaned as Petyr thumbed her clit.

“Yes?”

“He wants me to have a baby, father. He asked if someone could…Mmm…give me a baby so I could give him milk,” Sansa choked on the words as she came suddenly and without warning.

Petyr let her relax, his thumb pressed on her clit but it remained still, his finger deep inside her. After a moment he brushed a kiss to the back of her neck and grinned. “I shall have it arranged then, sweet one. You shall inform little Robert that I shall plant a baby in your belly for him…when does you next bleeding happen?”

Sansa swallowed. “I…I had one a week or so ago, father.”

“Perfect…We can begin at once then.”


End file.
